


Do It For Him

by chocomiruk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is Zukos spirit guide of sorts, All ships show in later chapters, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avatar Zuko, Dissociation, Happy Ending, Literally i grabbed canon and dissected that shit to take what i wanted, Medium Burn, Multi, Not really a slow burn but not a fast burn either, Panic Attacks, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Zuko is really soft because the author can't write angry characters without feeling exhausted, Zuko is the avatar, also starring zukos denial, because i can never kill him off, future violence, ooc-ness thats typical in canon divergence aus, the avatar zuko au i always wanted but never got, there are shapeshifters and shapeshifting lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocomiruk/pseuds/chocomiruk
Summary: He sits and meditates, though he can’t tell for how long. He just allows himself a few blissful minutes of silence and peace (as much peace as Zuko is capable of feeling, anyways). He nearly nods off, before his stomach drops.He jolts with a gasp, eyes flying wide open.He finds himself in an unfamiliar location, sitting right in front of a young boy. The boy looks startled, sitting cross legged before him. For a moment they simply stare at each other in shock, before the firebender shatters the moment.Zuko scrambles back and crouches into a defensive position, watching the other boy yelp fearfully and follow suit.“Who are you, and where did you bring me?” Zuko snarls.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Eventually - Relationship, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 574





	1. Meditation

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a ride! Thank u mina for beta-ing my mess and ty to my server for enabling me ;w; ilysm! 
> 
> i hope ur all ready for lore galore and drama! (and fluff) 
> 
> this is my first atla fic,,, hopefully it's okay! 
> 
> thank u for reading and enjoy :3

_Inhale._

_Count._

_Exhale._

_Repeat._

Falling asleep has always been hard for Zuko. There was always the fear of not waking up, the constant paranoia of laying vulnerable and unresponsive for hours on end. There was the fear of being trapped in a never-ending nightmare, unable to tell dream versus reality. The fear of the faces that flash behind his eyelids, the voices that echo in his mind.

_Inhale… count…_

Uncle Iroh always told him to find something peaceful to focus on, to try and count koala-sheep. Zuko didn’t find that very relaxing, and all his past peaceful memories were always abruptly shattered with the realization that he would never get those moments back again. He’d recently resorted to exhausting himself before bed, sparring with other insomniacs on board as some sick form of mutualism. This way, once he was ready to turn in for the night, he clocked out as soon as his head hit the bed. 

_Exhale… repeat…_

Even then, Zuko would sometimes have a hard time falling asleep. He’d lay awake for hours, body sore and eyes half-lidded, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Sometimes he wouldn’t sleep at all- and despite the fog tugging at the corner of his mind, he still rose with the sun. 

Tonight has turned out to be the same. Zuko gave up on actually falling asleep hours ago, felt it in his bones earlier that afternoon. Still, he knows it wouldn’t hurt to try and relax. He’s been too tense lately, so much so that he found himself snapping at even the smallest of mistakes. Zuko is temperamental by nature, but even he could admit he was acting quite nasty that day Shame fills him as he notes that he would have to issue an apology to his crew the next day, but he knows there’s no use focusing on that now. 

He takes a deep breath, resting calmly in a familiar lotus position. His eyes close and he simply gives himself a few moments to breathe. He wills himself to get rid of all the darkness swirling in his heart and mind, giving his body a chance to rest from the tension always residing in it. A brief jolt of anxiety flashes through his mind, crying out that he is being too vulnerable and danger can jump out any second. The thought isn’t too implausible, but Zuko knows he can handle himself should anything throw itself at him. 

Still, he squashes that idea as soon as it comes. 

He sits and meditates, though he can’t tell for how long. He just allows himself a few blissful minutes of silence and peace (as much peace as Zuko is capable of feeling, anyways). He nearly nods off, before his stomach drops.

He jolts with a gasp, eyes flying wide open.

He finds himself in an unfamiliar location, sitting right in front of a young boy. The boy looks startled, sitting cross legged before him. For a moment they simply stare at each other in shock, before the firebender shatters the moment. 

Zuko scrambles back and crouches into a defensive position, watching the other boy yelp fearfully and follow suit. 

“Who are you, and where did you bring me?” Zuko snarls, the boy's dumfounded expression only feeding to his anger. 

“Me?” the stranger cries, looking utterly lost. “I didn’t do anything!” 

“Don’t fool with me, I won’t fall for it! What did you do with my crew?” 

“Nothing! I don’t even know who you are!” More lies. “We don’t have to fight!” 

“Like hell we don’t,” Zuko hisses, trying to call for his fire. Upon getting no results, he pauses and tries to concentrate even harder- still, nothing happens. His firebending is gone. His eyes widen, head whipping up to glare at the boy ( _child, really_ ) to see if he is responsible for this. 

The boy looks just as worried as Zuko feels, his guard lowered in his confusion. Zuko bristles, clenching his fists. “I don’t need fire to fight you,” he growls, before leaping forward. The stranger cries out in alarm, Zuko wasting no time in swinging at him. 

The boy dodges and rolls off to the side, fruitlessly trying to block the prince’s barrage of angry attacks. Zuko sweeps at his feet, sending him toppling to the ground. He doesn’t stay down for long, jumping to his feet before distancing himself from Zuko as best as he can. 

Zuko takes this time to assess his opponent, though he was tense and looked ready to strike at any moment. The boy in front of him looks this way and that, Zuko reluctantly noticing that the stranger seems truly confused as to what his surroundings are. Upon further inspection, Zuko notices that his eyes are steely grey and he's dressed in orange garb that Zuko has only ever seen on the scrolls his tutors used to force him to read as a child. 

The blue tattoos only confirm his newly forming suspicions. Zuko’s guard drops dangerously, too startled at his new discovery to keep holding it up. “You’re an airbender?” 

The boy sags in relief, grateful that they aren’t fighting anymore. “I sure am,” he chirps. “I'm Aang.” 

“Aang…” Zuko repeats under his breath, eyeing him cautiously. He keeps his fighting stance for just a second longer, before lowering himself to the floor and sitting criss-cross. “Alright Aang,” he says cautiously. “Let’s talk.” 

Aang plops himself on the floor, lips stretching into a wide grin. “Okay! What do you want to talk about?” 

“Where are we?”

Aang deflates. “Ah, should’ve expected that one…” he mutters, tapping his chin as he begins looking around. “I’m pretty sure this is the spirit realm, but I can’t be sure.” 

Zuko scoffs. “The spirit realm?” He arches a brow, unimpressed. “There’s no way I’d be in here if that were the case.” 

“I shouldn't be here either,” Aang points out. “I’m not sure why I’m here, now that I think about it. Last I remember, I was…” 

A beat.

“I was…” 

Zuko watches Aang with mild alarm as his face darkens, hands beginning to twist in his robes. Zuko bites his tongue as the silence stretches on, unsure of what the boy can even be thinking of. He plans on letting him sort through his thoughts without interruption, but that flies out the window the moment Aang begins to flicker in and out of view. He startles, foregoing any sense of personal space as he crawls over to the distressed tween. 

Zuko is not good with kids. 

“Hey, hey!” Anxiety tears at his chest, hands fluttering about uselessly as he tries to decide if grabbing Aang’s shoulders is a good idea or not. He finally decides that it doesn’t matter, firmly settling his hands on Aang’s shoulders before the boy has the chance to curl into himself. His body trembles and jerks with the force of his heaving gasps, but Zuko’s touch is warm and solid. 

“Aang, come on.” Zuko lowers his voice. He still feels awkward, but he knows exactly how bad Aang must be feeling right now. He has his own fair share of panic attacks hidden up his sleeve. Zuko also has no idea what will happen to Aang (or him, for that matter) if he fades from the realm. He has to calm him down. 

“Pull yourself together buddy, you aren’t there anymore.” He tries, hoping he was saying the right thing. Fortunately, it seems to do the trick. Aang gradually stops flickering, his posture loosening up from its curled up position.

Zuko tries to remove his hands, but Aang quickly grabs onto his wrists to keep them there. He almost tries to force himself away- but locks gazes with teary steel eyes. His resolve crumbles almost instantly. 

Spirits, when had he gone so soft? He’s going to have to work on that. 

“Please,” Aang whispers. 

“Okay,” he replies, just as softly. 

-0-0-

  
  


Zuko isn’t sure how long he sits there with Aang. 

For a while, they sit in silence (sans Aang's occasional sniffle). However, once calmed down, Aang begins to speak. 

He tells Zuko of his adventures back at his home and spills his feelings about the memory that left him so shaken. Zuko sits and listens as Aang recounts the events.

“I had a friend once,” the boy explains. “He was really cool. We liked to play with the other kids a lot, and we both mastered airbending pretty early on! For a while, everything was great. We did everything together.” 

Zuko doesn’t speak. He’s sensing an oncoming ‘but’.

“But one day… he was called away. I waited for him, but when he came out, he wasn’t happy. He was really, really upset. He didn’t tell me what happened, I ended up finding out by myself. I was called in the day after, and they told me I had to be there for him, no matter what. They said… I was his spirit guide.” 

Zuko tenses, eyes flying wide open. “You mean…?” 

Aang nods, not commenting on Zuko’s strange reaction. “He was the Avatar.” 

“He wanted to run away,” Aang continues, voice soft and wistful. “Being the Avatar was terrible for him, especially because they didn’t wait until he was 16 to tell him like they should’ve. It was kind of bad for me too, since I was his guide. I didn’t want him to go through everything alone, so I stuck by his side- even though he told me I didn’t have to.” He looks down and picks at his robes, before he sighs and glances away. 

“What happened then?” Zuko asks quietly. He doesn’t want Aang to stop talking. He has to know how this Avatar died. 

“We ran away,” Aang answers simply. “He grabbed me in the middle of the night and we stole a sky bison.” He pauses, before he lays back and shuts his eyes. Zuko lets the airbender pull himself together, leaning back on his own hands. 

Aang doesn’t speak for several minutes, his breaths deep and shaky. Zuko doesn’t speak either, listening to the nature around them. He let’s Aang gather himself, ready to change the subject if he needs to.

“There was a storm,” he finally whispers, voice thick. “He didn’t- he didn’t save himself. I don’t know what happened, but there was a flash of blue and… a lot of blurry memories after. I popped in here every so often, but barely for a minute or two. I’ve only seen people twice. Three times, including you.” 

Aang's eyes open, fixing his burning gaze right at Zuko. His lips are turned down into a frown, the expression odd on his young features. Zuko can easily guess the boy is a smiler- any other expression simply feels too wrong. 

“I have a feeling… they’re gone too.” 

A chill shoots straight up Zuko’s spine. He averts his gaze, shoulders tense as he tries to find a response. 

“I…” What does one say to that? When Zuko’s mom went missing, no one had told him anything remotely comforting. Except.. Uncle had said something, hadn’t he? “I’m- sorry. For your friend.” 

Aang lights up, and Zuko suppresses a sigh of relief. 

_'Nailed it._ '

“It’s fine. It must have happened for a reason. I won’t let his sacrifice go to waste!” Aang sounds determined, and Zuko finds himself wishing he had that sort of confidence himself. “I just need to find out why I’m here.” 

Zuko nods. 

“Why do you think you’re here?” Aang questions brightly, looking ten times better. A heaviness still lingers in his eyes, but he seems fine for now. 

  
Zuko frowns at the reminder of his current predicament. He digs through his memory for anything unusual, but finds nothing. “I… I don’t know.” 

The airbender cocks his head to the side, confused. “How do you not know? People don’t just appear in the spirit realm for nothing.” 

Zuko flushes. “You didn’t know why you were here either!” he defends, crossing his arms. “What’s your excuse?” 

“I thought I died.” Aang giggles, clearly enjoying Zuko’s indignance. “I think that’s a good excuse. What were you doing before you got here?” 

“I was meditating,” Zuko grumbles. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“You were _meditating_?” Aang asks incredulously. “ _That’s it_?” 

“That’s it,” Zuko confirms with a nod. “I was… getting too snappy with my crew,” he admits shamefully, ducking his head to avoid looking at the boy across him. 

“Are you a pirate? A sailor?” Aang grins. “I’ve always wanted to meet a pirate!” 

“Trust me, you don’t.” Zuko mutters under his breath. “And no, I’m not either of those. I spend my time around sailors but-” He pauses. Should he really tell this kid who he is? He’s kind of enjoying the casual conversation, and most people distance themselves the moment they learn of his status. He glances back up.

Aang is still watching him, eyes sparkling. Zuko sighs.

“I’m…a prince. Prince Zuko,” he tells him. Aang _‘ooo’s_ softly. 

“A prince? What are you doing on the seas?” 

“Loaded question,” the prince replies uneasily. “It’s… a long story. But I’m banished.” 

Aang doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t try to change the subject either. His expression is carefully blank, but the question is still present in his eyes. Zuko purses his lips, not sure if he wants to spill his embarrassing failures to such a stranger. 

But Aang had trusted him with information that he otherwise didn’t have to tell him. Zuko supposes that maybe he owes him this much. 

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it go. Then, slowly, he begins to explain.

Aang turns out to be a very good listener. He doesn’t comment at all as Zuko struggles through his story, but Zuko refuses to look at him in fear of the disgust he’s sure he’ll find. Whereas Aang had occasionally hummed throughout the beginning of his story, he’d gone dead silent by the time Zuko was finished. 

“So he told me to find the Avatar, and only then would I be able to return home.” Zuko sighs. “I don’t know though… I’m tired,” he admits. “I’m a little tired of being so angry all the time. Uncle keeps telling me to find my own destiny, but I keep thinking of my father. How would he react if I just… stopped? Would he even care? Would he send someone else after them?” The words spill out of him faster than he can even think to stop them, but he finds that he just doesn’t care. It feels cathartic. 

Aang doen’t reply, and Zuko immediately feels foolish. He looks up, ready to apologize, but Aang’s upset expression shuts him up. Silence falls over them like a thick blanket.

“Zuko,” Aang speaks quietly, as though afraid of scaring the older teen. “I’m sorry you went through that.” 

Zuko’s chest constricts painfully, but he offers Aang a tight smile. “It’s fine.” 

“No it’s not.” Aang shakes his head. “But it’s okay to not be fine,” he says wisely. 

Zuko stares at him, lips parted in shock. Right before he has any chance to respond, his head begins to swim. Aang cries out in shock. 

_“Zuko!”_

Zuko catches sight of Aang reaching out for him, his own hand automatically stretching out weakly. Their hands connect right as his stomach drops and his vision flickers yet again. 

-0-0-

Zuko comes to with a sharp gasp, the dark walls of his chambers greeting him as soon as his vision clears. His chest heaves, hands trembling in his lap. He looks down and stares at them, though he doesn’t really process any of his surroundings at all. His mind feels as though it were completely detached from his body, yet he somehow feels newly awakened at the same time. 

He’s barely given time to pull his thoughts together before a bang sounds at his door. He jumps, mind clicking into fight or flight. 

He scrambles to his feet and throws open the door, eyes wide and frantic. Uncle Iroh stands on the other side of the door, fist raised as though preparing to knock again. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice is rough with misuse. “Are we under attack?” Zuko doesn’t wait for an answer, attempting to push past him into the hall. Iroh grabs him firmly, but his touch is gentle as always. 

“Not to worry, nephew.” Iroh apologizes. “It was just me knocking on the door. I’m sorry I scared you.” 

Zuko forces himself to relax, protesting only half-heartedly as Iroh starts to steer him back to his bed. Iroh sits him down and begins rummaging through his dresser, Zuko only having the energy to blink tiredly at him. He reaches up and covers a yawn, tears beading at the corners of his eyes from the force of it. “What are you doing?” 

Iroh turns to look at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me?” 

Zuko stares at him blankly, his brain fighting to piece together what was going on. He notices the clothes in Iroh’s hands and blinks slowly, before looking down at himself. He was shirtless, dressed only in his sleeping bottoms. 

“Oh.” 

“Correct.” Iroh chuckles. He sets the pile on the bed, before turning around. He ventures over to the door and exits the bedroom, only pausing when he has the door open just a slit behind him. “Take your time, Prince Zuko. I’ll have tea ready for you by the time you are done.” 

The prince watches his uncle shut the door completely before laying on his back, taking a moment to think.

He’s sure what happened is most likely not something he should worry about, but at least now he has a lot of information he didn’t have before. More information is good. More feelings on the other hand... 

He sighs and rubs his face. He has a lot to think about. 

  
  



	2. Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I'm a little bit earlier than i anticipated but ah well
> 
> BUT WOW   
> over 100 kudos!! holy crap!!! i was NOT expecting that, i expected maybe like ten?? at the most??? but u guys really came thru enjoying my trash oh my gosh. i hope i dont dissappoint! ur comments all fueled me so much, i truly have u all to thank for the continuation of this story. im really excited for when i write the zukka goodness (u all have no idea,,, what's coming to you,,)
> 
> i faintly recall missing a punctuation mark in chapter 1 but for some reason am having a hard time finding it :( if any of u know where it is, can u tell me? thanks! 
> 
> TW for breakdowns, blood, and vague descriptions of dissociation, brief blink-and-youll-miss-it suicidal thoughts
> 
> thank u to bee's server for enabling me (again) im lov u all

Despite knowing he has much to ponder over, Zuko throws himself straight into work. The ship won’t drive itself, not that there’s anywhere important to go. 

He manages to avoid thinking about the conversation for days, purposefully exhausting himself down to the bone. If he isn’t training, he’s reading. If he isn’t reading, he’s spending time with his crew. Hell, he’s had tea with his uncle more times than he can count just this week alone- and while the man was delighted, Zuko knew that Iroh wasn’t stupid. He had to know something was wrong, but Zuko would rather die than tell anyone what’s been plaguing his mind. 

He’s pushing himself into his chambers after another long day, heavy clothing landing unceremoniously on the floor as he strips. Despite wanting nothing more than to throw himself on the bed to catch a few hours of sleep, he forces himself to wash now instead of putting it off to the next morning. 

He’s left dripping wet and standing in front of his smeared mirror, empty golden eyes staring right back at him. For a while, he simply observes his reflection, before picking up a comb to run through his hair.

His hair… 

Zuko hates his hair more than anything. Once upon a time, he felt great pride wearing it the way he does. Now, he wants nothing more than to take a knife to it and call it a day. 

That scares him. Cutting it off would lead to terrible consequences if father were to find out. But it’s not the possibility of punishment that scares him. What scares him is the fact that he doesn’t care. 

Zuko doesn’t like to admit when he’s very intimately bothered. He grew up needing to be strong, training to be a perfect prince. Princes are never bothered, they’re never sad. They are fierce, strong and brave. They don’t experience depression, they aren’t ungrateful like that. How can you be so depressed when you have so much at your fingertips? 

Yet somehow, Zuko’s finding himself more hollow by the day. 

The feeling has always been there, ever since he was a child. It wasn’t always this big, not when he had his mother there to feed it warmth every day. It especially wasn’t this big when he and Azula still got along. The day Mother left was the day it began to grow, spreading like a nasty plague. Now, at 16, he hardly saw any point in waking up every morning. 

As much as he hates to admit it, Zuko has no future. He has no honor, he never did. It was simply a word, a word that father fed to him to make him feel like he still had a purpose. A word father tied around his neck like a leash, keeping Zuko right under his nose and forcing him to do his dirty work. 

_ ‘I’m a little tired of being so angry all the time…’  _

The longer Zuko stares at his reflection, the worse he feels. The hurt swirls around in his stomach, the anger at the unfairness of it all. The self deprecation, the disgust he feels every time he looks at his face. Exhaustion weighs him down and clouds his mind, not helping his situation. If anything, it pushes at him like a dam, the walls already cracked and ready to burst. 

Tears spring at the corners of his eyes. He’s just... tired. He’s so _tired_. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore, he wants rest. He wants to stop dreading sleep, he wants to stop having nightmares, he wants to stop hunting this Avatar simply out of anger that they’ve gotten more attention from his father than Zuko ever got himself. He finally lets the emotions swim around his heart, reflection blurring over as his tears begin to fall. It festers, boiling and boiling until finally, it bubbles over. 

Zuko swings at the mirror. 

Pain shoots up his arm, shards shattering and digging into his knuckles. His teeth are bared in an angry snarl, the pounding of his heart muffling the crash of glass scattering about the floor. Shaky hands wrap around a particularly large shard, the other tugging at his hair roughly. He wastes no time, pressing the sharp end of his makeshift blade against the hair gathered in his fist. 

It takes some sawing, and he nicks himself more than once. It’s choppy and he knows he’ll have to shave off whatever he can later, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He just wants it off. 

The end result is less than ideal, but it gets the job done. He drops the clump to the floor, vaguely hearing his doors slam open. He reaches up to scrub at his face, get rid of the tears that refuse to stop. It helps none, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. 

Hands clasp his shoulders and Zuko jumps. He tries twisting away, but the hold is firm and unrelenting. 

“Please,” he’s gasping. “Please-” 

“Calm, Zuko…” 

Uncle. 

“Please, I can’t-” 

“I know. Come here, you need to breathe...” 

He’s falling forward into Iroh’s chest before he can even try to convince himself that he doesn’t need it. Warmth envelopes him almost immediately afterwards, cradling him as though he were something precious. He’s not, and he doesn’t deserve it- but he wants it, so it stays. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses, relaxing slowly to the sound of his uncle’s steady heartbeat. He’s limp, feeling and looking similarly to a puppet with its strings cut off. Considering what he’s just done, he figures that’s probably exactly what he is. 

Uncle’s hand comes to rest atop his head, fiddling with the odd patch of hair. Zuko should be feeling shame, maybe embarrassment for how ridiculous his head looks now. Yet he doesn’t, he just feels exhaustion (and pain too, now that thinks about it. He probably shouldn’t have punched that mirror.) 

“Let’s fix you up, Zuko.” 

Zuko doesn’t really want to leave Iroh’s warmth, but he pulls away anyway. He’s helped onto his feet, although he doesn’t really remember when he had collapsed in the first place. 

His mind feels detached from itself, and he finds himself staring blankly at the wall as Iroh works through patching his arm up. The only pain Zuko really feels is a faint throbbing, but he knows that it’ll feel worse in the morning. Iroh finishes his work, and Zuko drags his gaze over to him. 

They don’t speak, simply searching each other’s faces. Zuko finds not only sadness, but also pride. His chest feels lighter. 

“...Thank you, Uncle.” His voice is thick and congested, but Zuko doesn’t care. He closes his eyes as Iroh rests a gentle hand on his cheek, something he hasn’t had done to him since Mother. He exhales shakily, but fortunately the tears don’t come. 

“You do not have to thank me, nephew. I told you the day you were banished- I will always be behind you.” Iroh speaks, voice impossibly gentle. Zuko’s heart squeezes tight, and he squeezes his eyes shut even tighter. “I am here for you.” 

“Did… Did you know this would happen?” 

“I saw it in your eyes,” Iroh admits. “But I said nothing. I knew if I pushed it, you would hide. So I let it happen, even if I knew it would be painful.” 

“Thank you,” Zuko repeats. 

Iroh takes a long look at him. The prince is somewhat curled up in his chair, eyes shut and face splotchy. He looks small and tired, but like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

“I’ll always be here.” 

-0-0-

  
  


Zuko wakes up that morning feeling tired, but much lighter than he has in years. 

He can tell that he’s slept in, chatter echoing outside his door. He shuts his eyes and lets himself listen, enjoying a few minutes to himself before forcing himself to sit up. 

There’s a gentle knock at the door, Uncle Iroh stepping in shortly afterwards. He carries a tray full of medical supplies and a cup of steaming tea, the floral scent wafting through the room soon after the door is shut. 

Zuko lets himself relax. “Good morning, Uncle.” 

“Good morning, Zuko.” Iroh takes a seat and holds out a hand, Zuko taking the hint and giving him his patched up arm. The bandages are brown with dried blood, some red patches scattered here and there. The wounds burn and itch, but Zuko’s dealt with worse.

“What is the plan for today, my prince?” asks Iroh, calmly unwrapping Zuko’s arm. 

“I want to have a meeting with the crew today.” Zuko replies. “I’m calling off the mission.” 

Iroh doesn’t look surprised, instead offering Zuko a knowing smile. “What changed your mind?” 

Zuko hesitates, watching Iroh pour antiseptic over his cuts. It looks terrible and burns like absolute hell, now that Zuko is a bit more clear-headed. He’s suddenly glad it’s his uncle taking care of him, and not someone else. 

“I’ve been… thinking.” He says softly. “And I’m tired. I’m tired of everything, really. Especially my father. I knew deep down that what I’ve been doing wasn’t okay. That what Father was doing wasn’t okay.” He sighs. “You’ve been telling me for years, but I was too angry to accept it. I didn’t want to accept that I was hurting, that I was a lost cause. Father knows I won’t ever find the Avatar, no one’s seen them in the past hundred years. They might even be dead.”

Iroh frowns, and Zuko turns away so he doesn’t have to see it. “I should’ve seen that I didn’t need his validation and love, no matter how much I wanted it. But it took me three years to realize… and now it’s three years too late.” 

“You aren’t too late, Zuko. You were thirteen, you barely reached my belly when you stood as tall as you could.” Iroh finishes what he’s doing, reaching forward and cupping Zuko’s chin. He forces the teen to look at him, eyes softening when Zuko’s eyes begin to mist over. “You were a little boy. You still are. Some people don’t realize their wrongdoings until they’re quite late into their older years.” Zuko doesn’t need to ask in order to know who Iroh was talking about. “It’s never too late to make mistakes, and it’s never too late to fix them. You have many years ahead of you, nephew. You can use them for good.” 

Zuko nods, and takes a cup of tea that’s offered to him. Iroh looks away and gathers all his materials, pretending not to notice Zuko trying to sniffle as quietly as possible. “Come out and have a small breakfast, Zuko. I will alert everyone for a meeting in twenty minutes.” 

“I will, thank you.” 

Iroh grabs his tray and stands, stepping over fallen clothes and the occasional knick-knack spread across the floor. He’s halfway out the door, before Zuko calls for his attention. 

“Uncle, wait!” 

Iroh turns, brows raised in surprise. Zuko pauses nervously, shoulders hunched. He swallows thickly and braces himself. “There’s no way people like us can make it to the spirit realm, right? It’s impossible, that’s what you told me.” 

“Correct, Zuko. It should be impossible for us to fully cross over to the spirit realm.” Iroh’s brows furrow as Zuko suddenly closes off, expression becoming carefully blank. 

“I… I see… Thank you. I’ll get dressed now.” 

“You’re welcome, my prince.” 

With that, Iroh shuts the door, leaving Zuko alone. 

Zuko covers his face in his hands, confused. 

Iroh speculates.

-0-0-

“I’m sorry to bring you all out on such a short notice.” Zuko’s standing tall at the front of the ship, Iroh beside him. He’s trying to ignore all the stares pointed at his head, obviously noting the missing hair. “However, I have a really important announcement.” Zuko hardly wavers, though his hands tremble behind his back. Iroh pats his shoulder. 

“As you all have probably noticed, today has been rather slow, and you’ve all been granted a little bit of free reign over the ship. I was irresponsible and slept in this morning.” He smiles nervously, and a bit of the crew chuckles. Zuko is usually incredibly thorough with his routines as their prince and captain, but it wasn’t unusual to see Zuko scrambling through the hallways after sleeping in or getting distracted. He was still a child, after all. 

He clears his throat and crosses his arms. The crew goes silent. “I had a realization last night. There’s been a thought plaguing me for at least a year, but especially so in the last few weeks. With a little bit of reflecting, and a little help from General Iroh, I’ve decided… I’ve decided…” 

Zuko’s breath hitches, and briefly, he panics. His eyes scan over the crowd, all of the individuals unmasked and staring at him expectantly. Zuko has no idea what he’ll do if they’re displeased with his decision. He’s letting everyone down. They could very easily turn against him, toss him overboard. 

Iroh glances at him, meeting Zuko’s desperate expression, before jumping in. “Prince Zuko has decided to cancel the mission.” 

Zuko squeezes his eyes shut and breathes deeply, bowing his head. “I’m sorry you all have been dragged along for three years on this trip. It wasn’t all for nothing. We-We are going to do our best to fix what we’ve done, and make things right. If any of you have a problem with these developments, then you need to tell me now.” He finally looks back up, lips set in a hard frown and a determined fire in his eyes. 

There was silence. 

Then, a clap. Zuko’s jaw drops slightly as the clapping continues, before more people join in. It isn’t long before the whole crew is clapping, some hooting and hollering, some chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Zuko isn’t sure what to think, shocked into speechlessness at the unexpected response he’s getting from his team. 

He feels a slight nudge at his side, and he looks over. 

Iroh smiles and gestures, Zuko leaning down obediently for Iroh to whisper in his ear. “They are all runaways, looking for a better life too. I hand-picked them myself.” Iroh leans back and winks, letting Zuko process.

It all makes sense, really. Their first day on the ship, all the men and women had been hardened down or empty shells. They looked at the ship like it was something amazing to behold, like it was a beacon of light in a life of darkness. Zuko had assumed nothing back then, simply marched on board with trembling lips and a shattered heart. It never occurred to him how he got his crew, he just knew that they were there one day and never left. 

A small smile quirked at his lips, which he hid easily behind his hand. He watches his crew as the noise simmers down, a few beaming smiles and smirks decorating their faces. 

“Prince Zuko,” a man spoke up, catching his attention. Zuko only vaguely remembers his name, but knew him very easily as the man who lost his eye for him when he was 14 and had an unfortunate encounter with a group of pirates. 

Zuko raises an eyebrow, a gesture to show he was listening. 

The man looks around at everyone, then back to him. “Well… now that we aren’t searching for the Avatar, what’s next?” 

Murmurs of agreement arise, leaving Zuko to ponder over the answer to that question. He purses his lips, eyes downcast. 

_What is next?_

Zuko’s never had so much freedom in his life. Before this, his life was filled to the brim with training sessions and time with his tutors. He always had his life planned ahead of him, even just a little bit. There was always a task, always work to be done. 

His pondering is cut short as a distant (but clearly massive) explosion rocked the boat, his crew crying out in alarm. Zuko whips around, eyes widening upon seeing a bright blue light fading from the sky, dust settling after it. 

He and Iroh share a look. A moment of deliberation leads him to realize that it had come from the Southern Water Tribe. The tribe was already small as it is, if that explosion hit them, then…

They really could be no more. 

“Follow that light,” he demands, easily falling back into his role as leader. The crew scramble off to their places, and Zuko grips the railing tightly. Hopefully, they won’t be too late. 

He won’t let another nation fall. Not if he can stop it. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh next chapter is FINALLY gonna be the boy in the iceberg 
> 
> that's it for the day! i hope u all liked :D 
> 
> if u see any mistakes lemme know pls! it wasn't that exciting but it was all necessary for the story's development. thank u all SO much for your support, i can't even fathom how cool this is.


	3. The Boy in the Iceberg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -shows up one day late with starbucks- im sorry! here's a little bit of a longer chapter to make up for it
> 
> Finally some sokka! if he seems ooc to you, its because i pulled his personality from the first episode. In the first episode hes a little bit more serious.
> 
> Please remember that this is canon divergence. Dialogue has been shifted and plot is finally starting to show.
> 
> Enjoy 💛🌻

“I won’t let it get away from me this time…” 

Sokka bites his tongue, spear raised and ready. His gaze is focused entirely on a lone fish, swimming around their little boat. 

“Hey, Sokka! Look!” Katara’s voice rings out behind him, full of pride and excitement. 

Sokka shushes her quickly, not wanting the fish to take off. “Not now Katara, you’re going to scare it off!” 

“But Sokka, I caught one!” 

Sokka perks up, turning around. “You did?” His spear raises with his movement and pierces the floating ball of water above him, popping it and dousing him in water. He cries out in shock, Katara groaning in exasperation. 

“Sokka!” 

“I’m sorry, geez!” He shakes himself off as much as he can, trying to pat off some of the water. “How is it that every time you play with magic water, I’m always the one that ends up soaked?” He grumbles, pulling off his soaked mittens when it becomes clear they’ll freeze his fingers faster if he keeps wearing them. Katara narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. 

“It’s not magic, it’s called-”

“It’s called waterbending and it’s an ancient art unique to our culture, yeah yeah,” he mutters, not at all bitter. “You need a teacher or something Katara, I’ve nearly gotten frostbite twice. Twice! I can’t risk that.” 

“Waterbending masters don’t grow on trees, Sokka. Not to mention, I’m in charge of the tribe too- I can’t just leave. You’re just going to have to deal with it and stop being such a baby,” Katara sits down, grabbing Sokka’s spear from where he dropped it. She offers it to him, snorting as he snatches it back with a pouty huff.

“I’m not being a baby,” he mumbles petulantly. Katara laughs, only stopping when the boat shakes. Sokka raises a brow curiously, before following her shocked gaze to the ocean behind him. His eyes widen, and he scrambles for his oar. “Shit shit shit-!” 

Katara doesn’t even bother scolding him for his dirty language, gripping onto the sides of the boat as Sokka began steering them past huge glaciers as best as he could. “Left!” She cries. “Go left, go left!” 

“I’m trying,” Sokka growls, despite knowing she was only trying to help. Glaciers begin to close in around them, and he drops his oar right as Katara tackles him off the boat. They land on the glacier closest to them, Sokka grunting as his sister landed right on him. 

The cracks of their boat being crushed echoes in the air, and Sokka cringes. 

“Goddammit,” he whispers, chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly subsides. For a while, the siblings simply lay there, letting their brains catch up with their bodies. Then, Sokka nudges Katara off of him. 

He pulls himself up, looking at the shattered remains of their boat, before the vast expanse of sea around them. 

They’re trapped. 

“That wasn’t left,” Katara mutters wryly as she picks herself up. 

“Okay, so you don’t like my steering. If that’s the case, maybe you should’ve waterbended us out of the ice,” Sokka retorts, crossing his arms. 

Katara stands, whipping around to glare at him angrily. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?” 

“I knew I should have left you at home!” Sokka snaps. “Leave it to a girl to screw things up.” 

This was clearly the wrong thing to say, and Sokka regrets the words the moment they fall from his lips. Katara gapes at him for a moment, before she growls. Sokka braces himself.

“You are the most sexist, immature, nutbrained piece of-! I’m embarrassed to even be related to you!” Katara vents, gesturing wildly as she speaks. Sokka rolls his eyes and glances off, used to this argument by now, before noticing the water beginning to be manipulated at every move his sister makes. His eyes widen, panic sparking in his chest. The iceberg behind her cracks, but Katara is too upset to notice. 

“Ever since Mom died, I’ve been doing all the work around our camp while you’ve been off playing soldier!” Sokka barely realizes the words coming from her mouth, otherwise he would definitely have cut in to tell her how blatantly untrue that was. The glacier beneath them rocks, water rising behind Katara as she gets lost in the emotions she’s had bottled up inside her. 

“Uh, Katara-” 

“I even wash all the clothes! Have you smelled your dirty socks before? Because let me tell you, not _pleasant_!” Another crack. Sokka raises his arms placatingly, heart racing. 

“Katara,” he tries again. “Settle down!” 

“No!” Katara cries, cheeks flushing with anger. “I am done helping you! From now on, you are on your own!” 

With that final yell of frustration, the iceberg behind her cracks wide open and falls apart. Sokka yelps as the falling ice creates strong waves, pushing back the glacier they sat on. Katara flails briefly before catching onto the edge, Sokka following suit and holding on tightly as the water settles down. 

They stare at the floating chunks of ice in shock, Sokka struggling to find words. 

“Okay Katara,” Sokka speaks slowly. “You’ve _really_ got to find a teacher for this.” 

“You mean…” Katara whispers, voice growing smaller in both awe and fear. “I did that?” 

“Yep,” Sokka mutters dryly. “Congratulations.” 

Katara opens her mouth to respond, before a blue glow catches their attention. Sokka turns to glance down at the water, where the glow slowly grows bigger and brighter. He gasps, stumbling to his feet before backing away. Katara bumps into him as she does the same, both watching as a massive iceberg rises from the ocean. 

It surfaces with a small crash of waves, before bobbing steadily until it stills. 

It’s then Sokka notices the figures encased in it, one of a boy, and the other of a strange creature. There’s silence, before the boy's eyes open. 

Katara gasps. “He’s still alive in there! Come on, we have to help!” She grabs Sokka’s club from it’s strap, before yanking up her hood and taking off. Sokka yelps, pulling up his spear from where it is stabbed into the ice. He runs after her, expertly hopping from glacier-to-glacier. “Katara, get back here! We don’t know what that thing is!” 

Katara stops in front of the iceberg, before slamming the club down against it. Sokka pauses behind her, watching as she repeatedly brings the club down against the ice. 

“Katara,” he speaks, jumping when she hits the iceberg particularly hard. A large crack runs up the ice, gushing out air and pushing Katara back. Sokka grunts as she slams into him, causing him to fall back on his behind. He shields his sister as much as he can, gripping his spear tightly. 

The snow settles down around them, Sokka slowly blinking his eyes open _(when did he close them?)_ He drags his eyes up to the top of the now broken iceberg, where the boy from the inside emerges. 

Sokka raises his spear protectively, right as the boy groans and topples off the edge of the ice. 

Katara gasps and shoots forward, catching the boy right before he can make contact with the floor. Sokka cautiously pokes the boy’s head with the staff of his spear, jumping slightly when he shifts and groans again.

Katara swats his spear away. “Stop that! He’s waking up.”

“Good, because I want answers,” Sokka answers, but lowers his weapon anyway. He watches closely as the boy’s eyes flutter open, revealing steel gray orbs. 

Katara lets her hands drop as the boy sits up, rubbing his head with a wince. 

“Whuh-?” The boy mumbles, looking around at his surroundings. Sokka watches as the boy proceeds to space out, clearly thinking of something, his own grip tight on his spear but not yet raising it. The kid doesn’t seem like a threat, but Sokka isn’t labelled a ‘warrior’ for shits and giggles. He’s always on his toes, he has to be. 

The boy suddenly jolts, throwing himself to his feet. His arms raise placatingly as Sokka tenses at the sudden movement. “Sorry, sorry!” He apologises. 

“Who are you, how’d you get in the ice?” Sokka inquires, weapon raising defensively. The boy looks at it weirdly and bats it away. 

“I dunno,” is his answer. He’s looking around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but is clearly confused. A low grunt echoes through the air, and he perks up before scrambling up the leftover wall of ice. 

Sokka simply turns on his heel and walks around it, Katara following suit. He turns the corner just in time to see the boy waking up a large beast. 

Sokka’s jaw drops. “What the hell is that!?” He yelps, voice cracking. The boy doesn’t seem bothered by his obvious fear and merely grins, patting the newly awoken creature on the nose. 

“This is Appa, my flying bison!” 

Sokka snorts, crossing his arms skeptically. “Yeah, and this is Katara, my flying sister.” He gets a smack on the arm for that one, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. 

Appa grunts lowly, shaking out his fur a little bit. The boy beams, ignoring Sokka's sarcasm. “So, do you guys live around here?”

“Don’t answer that!” Sokka cuts off his sister, who had opened her mouth. “Did you see that huge beam of light? He was probably trying to signal the fire navy!” 

Katara pushes past him to get closer to the strangers, scoffing. “Oh yeah, I’m sure he’s a spy from the fire navy. You can tell by that _evil_ look in his eyes.” She gestures for Sokka to take a closer look, which he reluctantly does. 

The boy is clearly a baby, with rounded cheeks and bright eyes. He looks happy, but Sokka can see he’s very obviously carrying some sort of weight on his shoulders. Sokka hesitates, before stabbing his weapon into the ground. “Fine, I get it.” He mutters. 

Katara smiles, before turning to the boy. “The paranoid one is Sokka. What’s your name?” 

“Oh! I’m Aang.” He introduces. He notices the siblings eyeing his tattoos, and offers them a confused smile. “You guys okay?” 

“Just who _are_ you?” Sokka presses, but he seems a bit less suspicious than he was before. He sounds more curious, if just a little bit protective. “No offense. But we’ve never seen anyone like you before. Especially down here.” 

“I’m an airbender,” Aang answers, but it sounds more like a question than a statement, He doesn’t seem to know what Sokka’s really asking. “Am I by the Northern Water Tribe?” He asks, looking pointedly down at their clothing. 

“Southern, actually,” Katara answers. Sokka groans and runs a hand over his face. 

“Giant light beams, sky bison, airbending- I think I’ve got midnight sun madness.” He grumbles, stalking off. He yanks his weapon from the ice, approaching the end of the glacier they stood on. “I’m going back home to where stuff makes sense.” 

Sokka pauses, staring out at the horizon for a good long moment, before sighing and hanging his head. 

“Well, if you guys are stuck, Appa and I can give you a lift!” Aang chirps. He boosts himself up onto Appa’s head with a few short bursts of air, before walking over to the large saddle. 

“We’d love one, thanks!” Katara runs over to Appa’s side, where Aang proceeds to help her up. 

Sokka shakes his head. Does Katara have a death wish? Did Sokka never teach her about strangers? “Katara, no!” 

His sister looks at him, amused. “What? Are you going to wait for some other flying monster to come by and pick you up? You know, before you _freeze_ to death?” 

Sokka’s jaw clenches, and he levels her with an abnormally serious glare. Katara softens. “Sokka, we’ll be okay. Besides, you have your weapons, right? You’ll keep us safe.” 

Aang clearly doesn’t mind their suspicion, and would probably have commented something if they were fully trusting. “Yeah! We’ll just take you home, don’t worry.” 

Sokka hesitates, before finally approaching them to be helped up onto the saddle. 

Aang sits himself down on Appa’s head and grabs the reins. “First time flyers, hold on tight!” 

-0-0-

Katara pets Appa’s fur, humming quietly to herself. The poor sky bison had been a little too tired to fly, it turned out. Katara doesn’t mind, as long as it means spending more time with the mysterious airbender on board.

Aang is… something else. She can tell that there is definitely something on his mind that he isn’t telling them, but understands why he’s being so quiet. They’re strangers, after all. You don’t just spill your feelings to a stranger, especially unprompted.

She clambers over to the edge of the saddle, before peering over it. She whispers a small 'pssst,' rolling her eyes when it garnered no attention. Sokka's snores were probably too loud. She tries again, this time speaking a little louder. “Hey, Aang?”

Aang jumps, turning around. His eyes are wide, and it's clear to her that she just yanked him deep out of thought. Katara's heart clenches at the wide-eyed look. It's actually kind of cute, if not a little bit concerning. 

Aang flushes, clearing his throat a little. "Yeah?" 

"I was just wondering…" She pauses and bites her lip. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but she's admittedly a little curious. It's always hard for her to rein in her questions. She figures she may as well ask anyways, so she won't have to worry about what could have been in the future. 

"Since you're an airbender and all," she continues, averting her eyes, "I was just wondering if you know what happened to the last Avatar?"

At once, she witnesses Aang clam up. His expression threatens to drop, but he catches himself and shoves the smile back on again. "I-I'm sorry." He answers. "I definitely knew him. But he's gone now. I'm looking for the new one, too. After I drop you and your brother off, at least." 

Katara's heart drops, but she tries not to show it. The cycle could really be broken then. Her only hope, their only hope, can truly be shattered. What is she to do, if the Avatar is actually gone? She may as well ship herself off to the fire nation willingly. It's better than being invaded and forced onto a ship (or possibly killed, like Mom.) 

They both observe each other, before Katara speaks up. Her voice is barely a whisper, almost drowned out by the icy winds. "How come? What's the purpose, if they may not be alive anymore?" 

Aang's brows furrowed. "Why would they not be alive? The cycle continues on. Nothings changed in the past few days, at least to my knowledge."

He completely ignores Katara, as her breath hitches and her eyes blow wide open. "To answer the question though, I'm a sort of spirit guide. My job is to be by the Avatar's side no matter what, and find them when they're lost. And throw wisdom at them too apparently, no wonder Monk Gyatso had me take all those classes…" Aang trails off into mumbles, tapping at his chin with a distant look in his eyes.

Katara can barely breathe. Days? Aang thinks he's been in that iceberg for mere _days_? How is she going to break it to him that whatever era he remembers, it was far before their times now? Aang can't be more than a teen, maybe even younger than that. How will he cope? 

She swallows thickly, forcing herself to remember Sokka's words from years ago. 

_'You aren't a mom, Katara! Stop acting like it! You're just a kid... you're my sister.'_

She takes a deep breath through her nose and relaxes, the worry lines on her forehead and mouth softening as she does so. _'I'm not a mom, I have to stop acting like it. What Aang needs right now is a friend.'_

"Okay. So where is your first stop?" She asks, all business. Aang startles out of his pensive thinking, all dimples and smiles in no time. 

"Well," he begins, "Water is after air. This means the next Avatar has been born in one of the water tribes. Has yours had any babies in the last few days?" 

Katara shakes her head. She doesn't break the news to him that it hasn't just been days, and the Avatar they are looking for is probably already a waterbending master by now. And really old. 

She'll find a way to break it to him soon. If not her, then Sokka definitely will. He is generally dorky and kind-hearted, but sometimes he has no brain-to-mouth filter. 

Aang hums. "Okay! Then my next stop will be the Northern Water Tribe! I'll drop by, live out a few years and try spiritually contacting the Avatar when I think they're ready." 

Katara bites her tongue. "Aang…" she starts, fully ready to explain the flaw in his logic, before a realization dawns on her. 

The Northern Water Tribe… this can be her only chance. 

She glances back at Sokka. The young warrior is sleeping peacefully, snoring away and drooling slightly. She knows she makes fun of him sometimes, or even straight up undermines him in their worst arguments, but Sokka really is a warrior, through and through. 

Sokka's always been training, even as a little boy. When she was younger, she would often find him sparring with other boys, sometimes even Bato or Dad. The latter two were always gentle and more playful than serious, but even then had incorporated a few good training tactics into their games.

Ever since Dad had taken the rest of their men to leave for the Fire Nation, Sokka's been doing more than just 'playing soldier.' He a bit of a step up from a warrior, even. He hunted their food, organized their meals and separated their supplies between families. He built the huts, set up the tents, and even helped deliver the baby that was birthed just last year. 

He and Katara are equals as leaders, but she knows he can take good care of the tribe- especially with GranGran there. 

Sparing one last look at her sleeping brother, she turns back around to face Aang. Her eyes are flaring with determination, and her voice leaves absolutely no room for argument. 

"Take me with you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo okay that was a trip! The next chapter, zuko and sokka finally meet :D i hope you all are starting to see where im going with the plot >:3
> 
> if youre wondering where the heck the shapeshifters are, i promise theyll start becoming relevant soon. Theres a lot of backstory to it, and a lot of history. Its not going to be one of those "oh heres this just because i felt like it" situations, i promise! Its actually a very important asset to the story. Itll even get whole chapters for itself. We havent even made a dent in the story plot, so just hold on a little tighter and itll come up !
> 
> Thank u for taking the time to read this. We've hit 200 kudos and im shook. You all are so sweet and supportive. 
> 
> Until next time! 💛


	4. A partnership

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY IM LATE AGAIN BUT I HAVE AN EXPLANATION THIS TIME
> 
> i barely started writing this chapter on thursday 😬 idk why, i guess i was very tired
> 
> Anyways! This isnt my favorite chapter, but Sokka and Zuko are meeting here!
> 
> Hope yall enjoy :3

“She’s _what!?_ ”

Sokka couldn't believe his ears. GranGran is just watching him, expressionless as always, as if she didn’t just tell him the second most heart-stopping news he’s ever heard in his life. 

“She’s gone,” GranGran repeats. “She and this young boy dropped you off to the tent in the early hours of the morning. She packed a bag, and then they left.” 

Sokka gapes, mind racing. Katara left. Just like that. Wasn’t she just telling him that she couldn’t abandon the tribe yesterday? Not only that, but she couldn’t even bother to wake him up and let him know of her plans? 

“You didn’t try to stop her?” Sokka asks helplessly. 

“I am old, my boy. I cannot chase after your sister the way I used to.” GranGran shakes her head. “Katara is also very stubborn. She would have found another way. You know this.” 

Sokka swallows thickly. This is not good. Katara is a fighter, but she doesn't know how to actually fight. Especially if she runs into the Fire Nation. He has to pray Aang teaches her at least a little bit of combat, if he even knows any. 

“Shit,” he hisses, running a hand through his hair. A few strands loosen at the action, blowing with the wind as he begins to pace. “Shit, shit shit shit shit _shit_ -” 

“Sokka, Katara will be fine.” GranGran tells him. Sokka waves a hand at her, opening his mouth to tell GranGran his (admittedly half-assed) plan, before his eyes catch sight of smoke in the distance. 

His words leave him immediately, dread pooling at the bottom of his heart. Smoke. Smoke can only mean- 

“Oh,” he whispers. “Oh no…” 

“It’s the Fire Nation,” a woman cries, sparking a chain of panicked reactions from the rest of the village. 

Children start crying, burying themselves in their mothers coats, those without mothers attaching themselves to his grandmother. Their parents in turn wrap around their kids and stumble over unsure words of comfort, their eyes turning to him with hope.

Sokka looks back at the ship, just a few minutes away from their village. He hesitates, before taking a shaky breath. 

“Okay,” he whispers to himself. “Okay,” he repeats, this time louder and addressing the rest of the village. “You all need to go, now. Hide in your homes, protect your kids!” He orders, trying hard to sound confident in himself. He wishes Dad were here- Sokka would have undergone more professional training before now. He would be braver, stronger. His voice wouldn’t be so shaky. “If anything happens, and they try to take you hostage, do not fight. If you want your kids to live, you will not fight back. Understood?” 

He scans over the group, taking in the nodding heads, before sweeping an arm out. “Good. Now, go! And don’t come out until I say so!” 

The villagers scramble to their homes, GranGran taking the children on her to the igloo their family shares. Sokka purses his lips, before stalking off to where they keep their weapons stored. Sokka can handle just about any Water Tribe weapon thrown in his hands, but he’s mostly keen on his boomerang and club. Bato used to tease him about it, but he and Hakoda still made sure that he mastered them in no time. 

Sokka finds himself missing them, and the boys who used to be his sparring partners. Despite their departure, Sokka has kept up his training every day, even teaching a few little kids some basics here and there too. They’re the future of the tribe after all, and as far as Sokka’s concerned, the men who’d left on the ships two years prior were either dead or imprisoned. 

The thought hurt, but Sokka’s come to terms with it. Katara has always had hope though, and never stopped believing that they would eventually cross paths again. Her hope ended up becoming Sokka’s hope, and he did everything he could to keep hers alive. 

He hefts the club into his hands, tucks his boomerang into its holster, and sets off to stand in front of the village. 

He crosses his arms and watches the boat approach, bits of soot raining from the sky and dropping to the ground below. He plans on being peaceful at first. If there’s anything his father taught him, it was to be calm and not charge headfirst into battle. Especially when he’s outnumbered, which he has no doubt will be the case today. 

He digs his boots a little deeper into the snow, and he waits. 

-o-o-

Zuko paces anxiously, pausing occasionally to glance out at the tribe coming into view. The tribe looks fine, he could easily change courses and just leave. He may give them a bit of a scare, but at least he’d be leaving them alone. 

Iroh had shut that idea down quite quickly though, and explained to him that maybe someone of their tribe was hurt and may need medical assistance. He didn’t mention that he wanted Zuko to go out and have actual human interaction with people other than their crew for once, but he didn’t need to. Zuko could already tell. 

The boat approaches the edge of the land, slowing down to a stop. 

A single person stands at the entrance of the village, dark hair rustling slightly in the wind. Their arms are crossed, and upon closer inspection, Zuko can tell they’re a male. 

“This is our stop,” Iroh hums cheerily. 

“He thinks we’re going to attack,” Zuko murmurs, watching the ramp of the ship dislodge with a creak. The cold air makes his eyes water, and his breath puffs out in clouds. He’s not used to freezing temperatures like this. How do people live their entire lives here? 

“Can you blame them?” Iroh pats his shoulder. “Now come. I’ll do the talking, if you want.” 

Zuko relaxes under his touch, nodding meekly before following his uncle as they trek down the ramp. 

He keeps his eyes firmly trained to the ground, stepping into the snow cautiously. The soft ice crunches beneath his boots. The noise is oddly satisfying, and Zuko finds himself loosening up as they keep walking. 

They slow to a stop in front of the man (who Zuko now realizes is not a man, but a teen. Just like him.) Iroh bows respectfully, Zuko hesitantly following suit. 

“We come in peace,” Iroh begins. “We are sorry for any panic we may have caused.” 

Zuko crosses his arms and spares a glance up at the teen, making direct contact with piercing blue eyes. He immediately looks back down to the snow, cheeks warming in embarrassment. 

The teen stammers a bit, and Zuko can immediately tell he is new to being a leader. He’s too unsure, too skittish. Much like a scared animal. Zuko makes sure not to shift around too much, knowing one wrong move can very quickly lead to a slit throat. 

“Um- it’s okay, I guess. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” 

“I am Iroh of the Fire Nation.” Iroh answers honestly. He nudges Zuko, who clears his throat and finally lifts his head to make eye contact again (purposefully, this time.) 

“Uh- Zuko. I’m Zuko.” He mutters lamely, face flaring. Iroh doesn’t make a single reaction to Zuko’s attitude, but the prince knows he'll be in for a teasing later. 

The teen in front of them frowns. “And what does the Fire Nation need from us today?” He asks slowly, clearly on guard. Zuko doesn’t blame him, really. 

Iroh shakes his head with a smile. “We aren’t here on their behalf, fortunately. We’re runaways.” 

“How can I tell you’re being honest with me?” The teen shoots back. “Just warning you now, we really don’t have anything worthy to offer the Fire Nation. Just a couple of babies and ice blocks.” 

“There was a light,” Zuko interjects. The teens stare shifts over to him, and Zuko can feel his throat closing in on him. He clears his throat again, his volume lowering significantly. “The beam. Yesterday. It looked really big, and close to the Southern Water Tribe. We have medical supplies, so we decided to check in to see if anyone was injured. But uh- it seems we probably made the wrong stop.” 

The boy makes a face. “No, you made the right stop. This is the tribe you’re looking for. We’re all fine. Kind of.” 

Zuko’s brows furrow, before he's looking around and finally taking in his surroundings. The village is extremely small. There are some tents and igloos spread far out, but they look abandoned. Only a few looked used. Iroh gives him a pointed look, and Zuko obediently keeps his mouth shut. 

“What do you mean by ‘kind of?’” Iroh asks, not unkindly. “We can offer you help.” 

Blue eyes lock back onto their ship, and Zuko can practically hear the gears turning in the Water Tribe leader’s brain. He looks back at them, and gestures for them to follow him. 

“Let’s chat. Any funny business, and you’re dead.” He says, and Zuko gets the feeling that he isn’t exaggerating in the slightest. “My name’s Sokka. Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe.” 

Sokka leads them to an igloo, noticeably the second largest home in the village. He gestures for them to sit inside, and turns around. 

“It’s safe,” Sokka calls out. “You can all come out now. I’ll be back in a little bit.” 

At his words, several people begin poking their heads out of their tents. Children dash out, and women begin slowly returning to their duties. Sokka nods to himself, seemingly satisfied, before making his way into the igloo. He drapes an animal hide over the opening to allow some privacy, and sits down on the one stretched across the floor as carpet. His club is still next to him, a clear warning. 

Sokka gestures out widely, an invitation to sit. They do so. 

“Let’s get started with the basics,” Sokka says. “That beam of light you saw yesterday? I know what it is. I was there when it exploded.” 

“I take it that it wasn’t a threat?” Iroh asks, noticing the obvious lack of injuries on the leader. Sokka shakes his head and even cracks a smile. 

“Nah, not at all. It was weird as all hell, though.” He answers. “There was a kid trapped inside a huge block of ice. Not only that, but he wasn’t alone. There was an animal with him too. A whatchamacallit? Sky bison I think?” Sokka hums thoughtfully. 

Iroh tenses, and Zuko glances at him curiously. 

“A sky bison? But how? More importantly, was it… normal?” Iroh gestures vaguely. Sokka seems confused, before his eyes light up in recognition. 

“I’ll be honest, it was really freaky.” Sokka bites his lip. Zuko tries not to let his eyes linger on the action too long. “Sky bison shouldn’t exist, not now anyways. It was a normal one though, that I am sure of. Just a little too big to be a shifter.” 

“A shifter?” Zuko asks, before he can stop himself. The two glance over at him, and he twists his hands into the fabric of his pants nervously. “Sorry. Just- haven’t heard of them before, really.” 

Sokka tilts his head, eyes boring right into Zuko’s being. “You don’t know of them?” 

“I know _of_ them,” Zuko answers defensively, shyness ebbing away. “But my tutors never taught us much. They simply told me they were extinct.” 

“They aren’t,” Sokka shakes his head. “But they’re believed to be by many. Figures, the Fire Nation wouldn’t teach their kids on how they even became so scarce in the first place.” He scoffs. 

Zuko can feel the need to defend his nation rising in his chest, but he swallows it down. He’s supposed to be getting better. He can’t be so defensive anymore- especially since he knows Sokka’s right. 

“Let me guess,” he sighs. “It was our fault?” 

“Not yours,” the Water Tribe leader says. “Your ancestors.” 

Zuko blinks, startled. He’s very used to being blamed for shit his ancestors have done years ago, this is one of the first times he’s been told otherwise. 

“Shapeshifters are believed to have gone extinct a long time ago,” Sokka begins. “Majority of them were wiped out alongside the airbenders. There was a different species for every nation. Water Tribe shifters were huge arctic wolves, air nomads were like slightly smaller sky bison, earthbenders were badgermoles, and firebenders would shift into smaller versions of dragons.” Sokka lists. “Leaders of powerful groups and armies were shifters, and usually their offspring were too. Really, really good soldiers would be born shifters too. You understand?” Sokka pauses, and Zuko nods to show he’s listening. “Great. This was a little bit different for the Fire Nation though. No one knows why.

“The Fire Nation’s only shifters were members of the royal family. Which is understandable- dragons are really, really strong. When Sozin was born though, the lineage of royal dragon-shifters stopped.” 

Zuko purses his lips. He can already see where this is going. Sokka carries on, oblivious to Zuko’s reaction. “Sozin wasn’t born a shifter. He couldn’t take it. He convinced the world that shifters are animals, pets. That they don’t belong to live with humans and benders alike. So he wiped them out. Or he tried, anyways. He completely wiped out the Water Tribe shifters, I think. Obviously, the Air Nomads were wiped too, so their shifters went bye-bye. And like I said earlier, there's been no more dragon-shifters since Sozin. Most shifters we see are from the Earth Kingdom. Once you’re caught, you’re killed or tossed in prison. Or thrown in prison and killed there… Either way, you're dead." 

Zuko is speechless, staring at Sokka with wide eyes. A question pops in his head. “Wait, so if there’s shifters, then how are the actual animals able to coexist with them? How can you tell which from which?”

“They’re the role models, I guess. They’re the first benders. It only makes sense they stay, too. You can tell a shifter from the animal by the size. Wolf shifters are way bigger than their original species, easily as big as a human. Sky bison shifters are a little bigger than humans, but small compared to the animal itself. Badgermoles are the same as the sky bison. The dragons are about half the size of the actual dragons, I’ve heard.” Sokka explains. “The sky bison Aang had was a normal bison.” 

Zuko’s brain slows down to a halt, breath catching in his throat. He leans forward, eyes wide and demanding. “Did you say Aang?” 

Sokka leans back a bit, obviously startled by Zuko’s reaction. “Yeah, Aang. The kid in the iceberg.” 

“He was _in_ the _iceberg_? Where is he? Do you have him?” 

Sokka’s eyes narrow suspiciously. Iroh gently touches Zuko’s arm. “Nephew…” 

“No, Uncle! You don’t understand, I-” he stops himself, swallows nervously. “I-I know him.” 

“How could you possibly know him? He’s been in that iceberg for over a century.” Sokka inquires suspiciously. 

“I… I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I had a dream. He was in there.” 

Sokka ponders over it, before he sighs deeply. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. He’s not here. That’s why I need your help.” 

Sokka shifts from his criss-cross position to sit on his knees. “He took off late last night with my little sister. They didn’t tell me anything. I woke up this morning, and they were gone.” 

“Why would they leave you like that?” Iroh asks curiously. 

“And you need our help how?” Zuko adds on, confusion etched across his face. 

Sokka jerks his head in the direction of their ship. “My sister wanted more than anything to find a waterbending master.” His hands run through his hair again, the situation obviously stressing him out. “I need you to take me to the north pole. She can’t fight, and I vaguely recall Aang telling us he’s only 12 years old. They’re going to need some help.” 

_Twelve years old?_ Zuko glances at Iroh, only to find his uncle watching him with an odd expression to his face. Zuko quirks a brow questioningly, but Iroh simply smiles. 

He leans back and thinks about it. Sokka’s right. There are two little kids out there, throwing themselves unknowingly into danger. They could run into Fire Nation, or hostile villages. They could be captured. They’re going to need help. 

Zuko raises his chin, and sticks out a hand. Sokka stares at it briefly, before reaching out and clasping it in his own. 

Sokka’s skin is warm and calloused from his years as a warrior, hands slightly smaller than Zuko’s own. His grip is firm as they shake Zuko’s hand, pulling away shortly after. Zuko looks the Water Tribe warrior in the eye. 

“We’ll take you.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand thats it!
> 
> finally some shapeshifter lore! and more plot! Do u see where im starting to go with this now? theres a reason why shapeshifters arent extinct, and why they never will be. i promise. i tell u this cuz i realize the story looks like it has plot holes and i need to offer at least a few breadcrumbs. 
> 
> I must apologize for how little Avatar!Zuko content there is so far. I warned u guys it was a medium burn! I have plans. 
> 
> Im also sorry if Sokka seems a bit ooc here, hes very tense and worried. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled dorkiness soon! 
> 
> See you all next week! Hope u enjoyed!


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